


Mycroft's Birthday

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: It's Mycroft's birthday and he's worried that Greg's forgotten





	Mycroft's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sanguisuga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/gifts).



Mycroft’s phone vibrated as he was packing up to go home.

_Sorry, love, I had to work late. Can you meet me for dinner?_

Frowning slightly, Mycroft wondered if Greg had forgotten the date. Then again, their lives could be chaotic at times, and what was a birthday? Greg hadn’t mentioned it at all, not even that morning as they both hurried off to work.

 _Of course,_ he typed back. _Where?_

Greg gave him the location, somewhere Mycroft didn't recognize. _I’ll make it up to you later ;)_

 _Likely. I’ll be there soon._ Mycroft pocketed his mobile and scrubbed a hand through his hair before fixing it. He picked up his briefcase and headed out, resisting the urge to look up the place. Whatever it was, certainly Greg wouldn’t have suggested it if he didn’t think he’d like it.

Mycroft settled into his car and gave his driver the address. He folded his hands in his lap and looked out at the city, reflecting on the past year. Greg had moved in just a few months ago, and in general his life was brighter then it had been. It was still a marvel to wake in the morning to find Greg sleeping by his side. Let alone the things they got up to at various other times.

Mycroft pushed his thoughts away. If Greg had a long day the odds of _that_ were low, though perhaps he could use forgetting his birthday as a foray into negotiations.

The car stopped in front of a nondescript brick building, nearly identical to a thousand others in this city. Mycroft sighed as he got out, automatically straightening his suit as he pushed open the door.

The place was quiet, and his frown deepened, wondering if this was some sort of trap. Cautiously he made his way down the hallway and put his hand on the doorknob, steeling himself as he turned the handle.

The lights in the room came on as soon as he opened the door. Greg grabbed his hand before he could bolt. “Happy Birthday, love.”

Mycroft blinked, finding the room full of colleagues and, he supposed, friends. Even Sherlock was lurking in a corner with John, doing his best to look bored out of his skull.

And in the middle of the room was a beautiful cake. Mycroft’s free hand went to his mouth automatically. “Greg,” he murmured.

Greg put an arm around him and ushered him inside. “I know you don’t usually do much to celebrate your birthday, so I wanted to surprise you.”

“You succeeded,” said Mycroft, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

Greg must have noticed because he gently steered him into a chair and crouched down next to him, still holding his hand. “You okay?”

“Very surprised,” he said, looking down at Greg, aware that the others were milling about talking with one another and giving the two of them room.

Well, except Sherlock, of course, who materialized by his side and offered him a glass of water. “I had nothing to do with this, Lestrade gave John the invitations, who insisted we come.” Sherlock sniffed, looking around. “I suppose we’re both going in for friends these days.”

“Perhaps so,” said Mycroft, taking the cup and sipping it.

Greg stood and kissed Mycroft’s forehead. “Take your time, though I must admit we’ve all been looking at that cake for an hour.”

Mycroft smiled. “Heaven forfend.” He took a long drink and set the cup aside. Greg kept one hand on the small of his back as he got to his feet and began mingling with the guests, thanking them for coming, working his way towards the cake.

“Thank you,” he told Greg as they reached it.

Greg kissed his cheek. “Anything for you. I know you’re not a fan of attention, but I thought just this once you might not mind.”

“You’re forgiven. Though I expect you to make it up to me later.”

Greg grinned and let his hand drift down to Mycroft’s arse. “Oh I will.”

Mycroft smiled back. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but of course Greg always knew what he needed.


End file.
